Hair Spray and Ruminations
by StoriUrahara
Summary: Sometimes, a bouquet of flowers and an apology is enough. Parallel Universe; RosexTentoo.


**Disclaimer; I do not own the rights to Doctor Who, nor do I mean to infringe on BBC's copyright for publishing this work of fanfiction. I also do not take credit for the X-Files quote hidden within X)**

**-x-**

The mingling scents of volumizing spray and perfume wafted around the dressing room, coating the floor and mirror with a fine film of glossy sheer. Sighing heavily, Rose threaded her fingers through her wavy hair and lifted it absently, pondering her reflection. Her makeup artist, Gwen, had left only moments before to retrieve a new compound, as Rose had used the remainder of it the night before. Left to silence for a few moments, Rose let her mind wander.

The light bulbs encircling the glossy mirror glowed softly, bright enough to provide more direct lighting, yet dim enough to avoid blinding. The bulbs were vintage; almost perfectly spherical and completely clear. Modern dressing rooms were fitted with flat LED lights that were much more streamline and easier to manage, but this particular studio had been built sometime in the forties or fifties, and despite replacing the old radiators and installing air conditioning, they had kept the lights. Vintage equals classy, after all.

Rose cocked her head and frowned, still regarding her reflection. Her hair had been curled into sweeping waves and sprayed beyond any semblance of normalcy for its usual limp stature, but she liked the change.

As she studied herself in the mirror, she decided her life was pretty great. Sure, it was stressful with all the bouncing back and forth, and it was always difficult to find time for herself when she had a new little brother to take care of on top of all the various jobs she was juggling, but that was just the sort of thing Rose liked. High-energy, non-stop action kept her going, and as she sat in the quiet dressing room, the gentle hum of the air conditioner the only sound permeating the silence, Rose smiled to herself.

Despite her love for anything fast-paced, Rose found that she could bear solitude and silence quite comfortably. It gave her time to reflect; to take some time for herself and rest a bit. Friends, family, photographers, directors, and even mere acquaintances always referred to her as a "restless soul," but she enjoyed the few moments of calm she could squeeze in.

Frowning, Rose let her hair tumble from the bunch she had created on her head.

That's the word he had used.

"You're just too restless, Rose Tyler," he said with a chuckle. "Going, going, going; that's you!" Rose laughed and poked him in the ribs.

"I believe I hear the pot calling the kettle black, Doctor." He laughed at her rebuke and planted a kiss on her exposed collarbone, snaking his arms around her and encircling Rose in an embrace. Planting kisses all along her jawline, he smiled in to her skin as she hummed in pleasure.

"Alright now," Rose sighed after too much attention, "I've got a shoot!" Fruitlessly trying to wriggle free, Rose pushed gently against his chest, only to feel him offer more resistance.

"Oh, you've got three more minutes," he chirped, moving to the other side of her neck.

"Two, actually," Rose corrected, glancing warily at the old clock above her mirror as she tried not to melt beneath his lips.

"A lot can happen in two minutes," he smirked in to her ear.

Rose sighed heavily as she traced patterns across the countertop with her finger. She hadn't expected to be reminded of him anytime soon, or even at all. After yet another argument over something so menial as the color of paint they should use in their bedroom, the Doctor had given up and went wherever he escaped to when he and Rose had a fight, and Rose stormed off to complain to her mother.

That, in turn, had influenced Rose's moving in with Pete and Jackie for the time being, as Rose refused to answer the Doctor's calls. Her new little brother Simon was two, and Rose had been thanked profusely for "offering to look after him" whenever Jackie or Pete needed time away from the little terror. Rose didn't really mind; when she was young she had often fantasized about having younger siblings.

Sighing again, Rose leaned against the counter, mentally kicking herself for being so immature. She didn't even know why she had argued; TARDIS blue was such a calming, beautiful color, and perfect for any room. But when she really thought about it, Rose knew why she started a fight.

It had just become so boring. Everyday life was so menial, so tedious, and Rose yearned for the adventure the TARDIS had given them. Alas, the piece of TARDIS the other Doctor had given them hadn't reached any sort of maturity yet, and was still in the early stages of growing. The Doctor predicted exactly two-hundred and seventy-four days before it would be ready to travel, and even then, it would be another year before they could travel to other worlds.

Rose still loved the Doctor with all her heart, and she knew he loved her with both of his, but part of living with him was the danger, excitement, and non-stop running, and without it, their relationship was as normal as anyone's.

So she played the card she never expected to, and definitely paid the price.

"Sorry about that," Gwen chirped from the doorway, startling Rose from her thoughts. "I'll get you finished up in a split!" Gwen set to work immediately, her skilled fingers applying the final touches exceedingly quick.

"Thanks so much, Gwen," Rose smiled, looking up at her reflection briefly to ascertain her appearance. "You've done a fantastic job, as always."

"Curtain goes up in two!" Rose whipped her head around to gape in surprise at Stephen, a fellow actor who was already in costume.

"Two minutes?! Bloody... Stephen, where were you ten minutes ago?" Giving one last look to herself in the mirror, Rose patted Gwen's shoulder and dashed out of the door, following him up the stairs and up in to the stage wings.

-x-

She thought she saw him in the crowd the few times she dared to actually look through the sea of dimly lit faces. It had probably been the spotlight in her eyes playing tricks on her, but she thought she had seen him, with his scruffy beard he playfully refused to shave and dressed in the black tuxedo he had taken to wearing as of late.

After ten minutes of waiting at the stage door, however, Rose was certain that she had imagined it all in her mind. She stood shivering in the cool autumn air, having swiftly signed and posed for pictures with the gaggle of fans who inevitably gathered at the stage doors to wait for the actors.

Not even attempting to deny the disappointment blossoming in her chest, Rose sighed heavily and leaned against the cool brick of the theatre house, downtrodden by the cliché romantics she had entertained even onstage. Her dour mood fed by the ever-pressing acknowledgment that she had been the one to walk out, Rose lifted a heavy hand to reach for the handle of the stage door, still half expecting her movement to be stopped by a sudden call of her name and an apology with a bouquet of flowers, hot breath misting in the cool air.

Her girlish indulgences were unrequited, however, and Rose dejectedly made her way back to her dressing room, more than ready to remove the copious amount of product on her skin as soon as possible and return to Pete and Jackie's, already planning on a hot bubble bath and a box of comfort-food chocolate.

With a flick of her wrist, the lights came on in a blinding flash, and Rose's tight blouse was off in moments, leaving her in no more on top than her favorite black bra. Tossing the shirt aside, a crinkling sound startled her, and she turned to see a man with her shirt half over his head and half covering a large bulge. He leaned forward as if dipping into a bow, and with a quick shake of his head, the blouse fell in a heap of creamy satin on the faded rug.

"That was rather unexpected," the man chuckled as he straightened. "I'm sorry for startling you." Recognition spread across Rose's face as she beheld the figure, and a warmth began to rise inside her.

"Doctor," she said curtly, a hint of glee betraying her through the utterance. Her favorite cheeky grin spread across his face as he shifted the bundle in his hands to bow deeply, and a deep blush filled her cheeks as her mouth fell open at the recognition of what he had brought in.

Eleven red roses and a single white one, all gently held in place with a white ribbon in a clear plastic floral slip. Later, Rose would claim her silence was her waiting for an explanation or an apology, but in truth, she was stunned.

"I know how difficult it's been for you lately; you dropped everything to travel with me all those years ago, and then with the Cybermen..." The Doctor trailed off, guilt-ridden agony pouring from his bared soul. He was unable to look Rose in the eye for what felt like an eternity, but finally, he was able to raise his gaze and tell her what had been weighing on his heart for months.

"You kept me honest, Rose. You made me a whole person. I owe you everything, and you owe me nothing. It was petty of me to storm off and pout like a child when you had every right to be cross with me. I've been trying to control everything from the dishes to what jobs you can take to the bloody color of our bedroom, and expected you to take it and comply." Rose, misty eyed and flattered past words, opened her mouth as if to reply, but the Doctor shook his head and continued.

"But that's not why I fell in love with you, Rose. Your tenacity, your stubbornness, and your love for adventure are what drew me to you in the first place, and what makes me love you more every day." As if remembering the bundle of flowers in his hands, he gave Rose a genuine smile as he stepped towards her and held out the bouquet.

"Human gesture of apology and love, I understand," he grinned, tucking his hands in his pockets after Rose relieved him of the bundle.

A few moments of stunned silence passed as Rose digested the Time Lord's words, unable to look anywhere but at the parcel in her hands. She had been ready to forgive him the moment she saw his cheeky grin, but she hadn't expected such a gesture from the Doctor. Still unable to speak, Rose looked up, and suddenly, her arms were around his neck and she was crying softly into his neck.

That was when the Doctor knew that he was forgiven.


End file.
